


Dove Grey Lace and Almost Birthday Kisses

by HumsHappily



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Love, M/M, Valentine's Day Fluff, Well...Almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumsHappily/pseuds/HumsHappily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly Valentine's day and nearly Mycroft's birthday, Greg's left a letter and a present. And Mycroft couldn't be happier for them to both be home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dove Grey Lace and Almost Birthday Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janto321 (FaceofMer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/gifts).



> Happy birthday to one of the best RP partners out there, [Merindab](http://merindab.tumblr.com/) also known as [Janto321](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321).

“Good morning,” Greg murmured, slipping into bed just as Mycroft reached out to turn off his alarm.

“Good night,” Mycroft smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek and sitting up and on the edge of the bed.

Greg smiled sleepily, and snagged his hand. “Not gonna tuck me in?” he asked, sitting up again, pressing his lips to Mycroft’s bare shoulder.

“Are you a child that you need tucking in, Gregory?” Mycroft asked, raising one eyebrow but turning anyway, leaning down and pressing Greg into the mattress, tugging the blankets up over him.

“Does that get me attention if I act like one?” Greg yawned, turning his head into the pillow with a smirk.

“Only a bit, though I’d be glad to paddle your bottom later if necessary,” Mycroft replied. “Good night, Gregory.”

“Sounds good. Night,” Greg said, yawning again as his eyes slipped shut. Mycroft smiled fondly as he went about dressing and heading out to the office as the sun rose over the smoggy London rooftops.

**  
“Sir? Letter for you,” Anthea said, tapping on the door. “Your two o’clock has been shifted to three. You should have time before for lunch, and the five o’clock with Cameron has been shifted to next Tuesday.”

Mycroft nodded. “Thank you, Anthea. He really will never realize that rescheduling to avoid me doesn’t work, will he?”

“No sir.” Anthea set the letter on his desk and stepped out without ever looking up from her mobile.

Turning back to his papers, Mycroft tidied them up and turned to the filing cabinet, sorting them slowly as his mind turned back to Greg, a smile drifting unrequested over his face. They’d been dating for two years, living together for one, and even Sherlock had stopped with the snide remarks. Mostly. It had taken a silent conversation between the brothers to establish that the remarks did in fact need to stop, and that the remarks were in fact not something that were necessary for Mycroft to ensure he would guard his heart. Sherlock worried nearly as much as Mycroft most days, knowing all too well his brothers history with relationships and men.

Lestrade was the first that Mycroft had allowed close in a very long time, mostly due to his unrelenting stubbornness and patience when it came to dealing with the Holmes brothers. And an accidental meeting in a bad storm, when Mycroft had had the only open umbrella at the crime scene Sherlock was hurriedly deducing.

It wasn’t that Mycroft didn’t want a relationship. It was that Mycroft was unsure of his ability to maintain such a thing. Proven by his rather shoddy track record. Unlike Sherlock, Mycroft had had a wild streak that hadn’t consisted of drugs-or rather only drugs. Ecstasy and marijuana had been an occasional indulgence . He’d had a punk streak back in his youth, something that had surprised Greg the first night they’d spent together when he uncovered not only nipple piercings but a rather large spread tattoo over Mycroft’s right hip.

That night had been full of laughter, and a strange, giddy sense of excitement as they’d tumbled together. And at the end, breathless and sweaty, flushed and messy, Mycroft had asked Greg if he’d stay over. Greg had, and it had been an absolute-

“Sir. The letter,” Anthea reminded, coming in and setting a plate and another thick file on his desk.

“Yes, of course.” Mycroft sat back down and nodded, glancing at the sandwich in distaste.

Anthea rolled her eyes and produced a packet of dressing from her pocket, tossing it down. “I know it’s dry, sir. I have extra in my desk if that’s not enough.”

Mycroft smiled briefly, tearing open the packet and spreading it liberally on the bread. “Thank you, Anthea.”

“The letter.” Anthea turned and left again.

Finished with the preparations of his lunch, Mycroft popped a grape in his mouth and reached for the letter.

_My,_

_This is stupid. I shouldn’t bother. But I just wanted to write something to remind you that I love you. We’ve both been busy, and hell, we can’t even get an uninterrupted night without me being dragged out to a murder or you being dragged out to a call from god knows where. And I didn’t send any flowers or any chocolates, but happy almost birthday and Valentine’s anyway._

_Anyway, I can’t wait to see you tonight. Miss having you in my arms. If we can manage it, I’d like to remedy that tonight. Left you a present on the bed. If you’d like of course._

_Love,_

_Greg._

 

Mycroft couldn’t help but smile at the looped, messy handwriting in the letter, though it was apparent Greg had tried to write neatly. “Anthea!” he called.

“Yes sir?” The woman in question appeared at the door, two files in hand.

“How does my schedule look for the rest of the day?”

“As I said sir, the meetings have been moved. As long as you complete these,” she said, handing over the files with a smile. “Which if you hurry, you ought to be able to do both and return home at a reasonable hour.”

“Thank you, Anthea.”

True to her estimate, only an hour and a half later Mycroft had completed his work and was opening the door to his home. “Gregory?” he called out, hanging up his coat. There was no answer and Mycroft pulled out his mobile to send a text, wondering when Greg would be back.

The answer came in a few moments later, complete with a smiley face. Mycroft chuckled and sent back a reply asking if he’d eaten. He received a confirmation and Mycroft went to fix himself a small plate, eating and then heading directly to the shower, paying special attention to a few things in his own small surprise for Greg.

Wrapped in his robe after, skin lotioned and shaved smooth, Mycroft couldn’t help but trail his fingers over the dove grey lace on the bed. He lifted it up, smiling as he held it to his skin, seeing how it still managed to show off his freckles. Dropping his robe, he began to dress, sliding the stockings up his calves first, shivering at the feel of the thin silk against his bare skin, the lace panties and garters following. He held up the camisole, realizing that it was cut so that it would bare his midriff, something that Greg was incredibly fond of paying attention to.

Mycroft sat on the edge of the bed with a wry smile, slipping it over his head just as he heard the door open. He spread his legs incrementally wider, hearing Greg call out for him.

“In the bedroom,” Mycroft replied, listening to Greg putter around downstairs for a few moments, setting something heavy down in the living room- case files, something glass clinking on the counter- his favourite wine, two for ten pounds at Sainsbury’s, and finally the tread of his shoes on the stairs.

Mycroft smiled as he came in. “Hello, Gregory”

Greg’s eyes roamed over his body, and he wet his lips unconsciously. “Hello, love. You like it?” he asked, coming forward and dropping to his knees in silent submission.

“More than,” Mycroft replied, stroking his hair back. “Thank you for my birthday gift. Though I do believe this is more of a gift for you.

Greg grinned, and pressed a kiss to his knee. “I got you a different gift for your birthday. Your birthday's not till the fourteenth after all. That’s a whole day away.”

“Mm, and you do so love to celebrate it.”

“Can we celebrate a bit early?” Greg asked, looking up at him with a devilish gleam in his eye.

“Of course,” Mycroft replied.

Greg leaned in, nuzzling his stomach as he shuffled closer. “I love this,” he groaned, rubbing his stubbly cheek over Mycroft’s belly, pressing a kiss above his belly button.

Mycroft shifted, biting back an unrefined giggle.

Greg grinned. “I heard that. I know you’re ticklish, I don’t know why you bother trying to hide it from me,” he said, repeating the motion.

“You’re ridiculous,” Mycroft replied, threading his fingers through Greg’s hair and tugging.

Greg took the hint, kissing down his stomach and over his thigh, one hand toying at the garter as he turned his face inward, running his lips over Mycroft’s covered cock. “Mm, you smell so good,” he said, voice almost a low growl.

Mycroft’s breath stuttered as he felt gentle teeth on his cock. “Do I?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Greg breathed. “Let me show you how good you taste now.”

“Gregory, yes,” Mycroft replied, wetting his lips as Greg’s hands came up to the waistband of his panties, slowly tugging them down. Mycroft lifted his hips as his cock came free, only half hard but rapidly taking interest in the way the lace felt as Greg slid it over his thighs and down his calves. “I did just put those on,” he said, swallowing.

“And you look just as nice with them off as you do on,” Greg said, running his hands over Mycroft’s calves and knocking his legs a bit farther apart.

Mycroft flushed slightly and turned his face up as Greg just ran his eyes over him, drinking in the sight with a possessive smile.

“You’re mine,” Greg murmured. “All of you, aren’t you?”

“More than, Gregory.”

Greg sighed happily and pressed a kiss to his thigh. “I love you,” he murmured and ran his thumb over the head of Mycroft’s cock, bringing it to his mouth with a quiet moan.

Mycroft turned his head down and watched, seeing the way Greg’s eyes fluttered in pleasure as he tasted, then moved to nuzzle Mycroft’s cock, letting his tongue tease at the head for a few moments before swallowing him down.

Mycroft let his head fall back with a moan, swallowing hard as Greg did the same, taking his cock into his throat completely. “ _Gregory….”_

Greg hummed around his mouthful, running his hands over Mycroft’s legs, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders, tipping Mycroft onto his back.

With a small gasp of surprise, eyes flying open, Mycroft let his hands go to Greg’s head.

Greg pulled off for only a moment to chuckle and kiss his thigh, and then went to work, pulling Mycroft closer and closer to the edge.

“Gregory, stop,” Mycroft said, breath coming hot and heavy. “I want you inside me.”

Greg made an almost disappointed noise but pulled off. “I can do that, love,” he said with a smile. “Budge up.”

Mycroft shifted back, laying his head on the pillows, cock bouncing against his stomach.

Greg gazed at him, practically committing his image to memory, wetting his lips.

Mycroft smiled and wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking slowly.

“Not allowed,” Greg said and pushed his knees up, pinning his hand to the mattress.

“Isn’t it?” Mycroft asked, sending Greg a pleading look.

“Not if you’ve already prepared yourself in the shower,” Greg said, grinning and swatting his arse. “I had planned to open you with my tongue. Suppose I won’t now.”

“You still could,” Mycroft replied, wriggling his hips.

“Mm no. You always get testy if I don’t go brush my teeth after.”

“It’s unhygienic, Gregory.”

“I’m licking your arse, Mycroft,” Greg retorted.

“Exactly!”

Greg groaned, surging up and kissing him. “Shut, up,” he laughed between kisses, pulling Mycroft’s leg over his waist, rutting his cock between his cheeks. “God, I love you.”

Mycroft moaned. “Gregory, fuck me already. Make it rough. I want to feel you.” He cupped Greg’s face, pulling back. “I miss you,” he murmured. “I need you so much.”

Greg kissed him gently. “On your belly,” he whispered, voice dripping in possession.

Mycroft shivered, body flushing as he rolled over, Greg kneeling up to give him room.

“Beautiful,” Greg murmured, dropping a kiss at the base of his spine. “So good for me, aren’t you, love?”

“I’m yours,” Mycroft breathed, heartbeat heavy in his ears as he waited, feeling Greg’s hand caress his arse. “Please, Gregory.”

Greg leaned over him, pressing his cock in slowly. “No one said it couldn’t be slow and rough,” he whispered in Mycroft’s ear.

“You are evil,” Mycroft panted, feeling his body slowly stretch for Greg’s unlubed cock, completely in love with the overwhelming friction and drag of skin on skin.

“You love it,” Greg chuckled.

Mycroft moaned as he pulled back, pressing in again. _“Yes…yes, Gregory, god_ ,” he sobbed out. " _More._ ”

“You wanted it rough.”

“I hardly meant on my willpower,” Mycroft gasped, reaching back and grabbing Greg’s hand, clutching it tight.

“Well, in that case.” Greg thrust in hard, both men moaning in tandem.

Mycroft laughed, clenching around him as Greg struck his prostate with the next thrust, laugh dying off into a loud groan. “Is it the lace?”

“No, it’s you, and your fucking brain, and those fucking freckles, you drive me mad,” Greg grunted, punctuating each word with a thrust. “God, what you do to me. So fuckin’ close.”

“Want you to fill me up,” Mycroft gasped, flushed and leaking at the praise. “Gregory!”

Greg groaned and dropped his head, biting Mycroft’s shoulder, sucking a mark into the skin. He tugged their joined hands up, beginning to stroke Mycroft off.

Mycroft dropped his head, panting. “Close.”

“Come for me,” Greg ordered. “C’mon, love. Show me.”

With a quiet cry, Mycroft was coming, Greg following him over. They collapsed onto the bed, still wrapped in each other, Mycroft pulled tight to Greg’s chest as he turned his head, seeking his lips, kissing him desperately.

“Meant it,” Greg finally said, voice quiet and full of emotion. “I hate getting pulled away from you. Miss being able to hold you at night.”

“I know,” Mycroft said, bringing his hand to his lips, pressing a kiss over the knuckles. “I love you, Gregory.”

Greg hummed contentedly. “Let me get you a bath,” he said, nuzzling into Mycroft’s neck.

“That sounds lovely,” Mycroft sighed, glaring in distaste at the wet spot on the bed.

“And I’ll change the sheets while you sit in,” Greg said with a quiet huff of laughter.

“Thank you, Gregory. You’ll join me after I hope?”

“Always do. How could I resist?” Greg asked, sitting up and tugging Mycroft up with him and over to the edge of the bed, lifting his camisole over his head. He smiled and tossed it next to the panties, then turned his attention to Mycroft’s stockings, peeling them down slowly, running his hands over Mycroft’s smooth skin. “You shaved.”

“I think you may have a fetish, Gregory.”

“Nah. Just a kink. And definitely well placed,” Greg replied, kissing Mycroft’s knee. “C’mon love, bath. You deserve it,” he said, standing and reaching out his hand.

Mycroft smiled and took it, allowing himself to be led in.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find me [here](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.  
> Any notification of errors are accepted with gratefulness that knows no bounds.  
> Kudos, comments, and your happy (pained) flailing are accepted with glee. I hope you enjoyed!  
> 


End file.
